


Sabor a Mi (My Soul's Kiss)

by MiraclesInApril



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Smut, Soulmates, au!, chanbaek/baekyeol, chanbaeksmut, papi kink, singer!baek, tourist!yeol, whipped!yeol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:04:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8386519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraclesInApril/pseuds/MiraclesInApril
Summary: Maybe dreams do come true and the silver chord that ties soulmates together does exist.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally a tweet-fic. tourist!yeol and singer!baek soulamtes au in which baekhyun is the national singer of mexico and chanyeol is his avid fan. enjoy ღ {unedited}

 

[[playlist]](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLd_PCcfK3PJFX_LCQC8KGJHZ-NoRPlsab)

 

_Sabor a Mi _

 

 

The night was alive. On the narrow cobbled streets of Mexico City, the night was alive, it was loud and it was joyous. It was also still unbearably hot and humid. Chanyeol’s hair under the wide brimmed sombrero was matted to his forehead with slickness the temperatures caused and the wife beater under his ridiculously flamboyant poncho was sticking to his skin. He was dressed in a poncho of brown wool with bright pink, forest green and daffodil yellow, the array of colours were odd but very fitting in the scenery. Chanyeol quickly found out that the traditional attire was vibrant and bold, mismatched and incongruous but forming the perfect harmony of a chaotic spectrum. The leather huaraches on his feet were cinching his toes and he would surely have blisters on his feet. And though he had tried to dress in spirit of the festival, he still couldn’t completely go all out on traditional get up, he opted to stick to his faded blue jeans.

He had arrived in Mexico the night before. He realized all too soon that he landed in a merciless season, spring was just as ruthlessly hot as summer. But he had booked tickets for Festival de Mexico almost a whole year before after having been late to booking for accommodation and entertainment two consecutive years. Festival de Mexico was an indigenous event but the amount of foreign participants was pleasantly surprising. And it also made things such as tickets and hotel rooms very competitive and tough to attain. Chanyeol had been curious about the festival, yes. But that was not the main reason why he had come.

The event hosted many performances; dancing competitions, theatrics, miscellaneous talents such as acrobatics and fire-eating/wielding and concerts. Chanyeol was here for the concerts, one to be specific. It was one performer in particular that had brought him from the other side of the globe, just to witness the magic of the voice that had wrapped around his heart that crooned from cassettes and CDs in person.

The festival had begun that day. Chanyeol left the hotel with a group of tourists like himself and a short Mexican tour guide named Mateo who was half as confused as the foreigners most of the time.  And even if Mateo wasn’t as helpful showing them around, he at least saved Chanyeol from being lost and pickpocketed multiple times that day.

There had been a parade. And Chanyeol saw more culture than he ever seen in his entire life. The colourful buildings on the tapering cobblestoned streets stood witness to the lively human sea moving along the middle, a mobile mariachi band filling the city with the melodious cries of the accordion and tropical strums of the vihuela along with the other assortment of instruments. The band was dressed in charro suits, black with silver embroidery and charmed the spectators on the side lines with fetching smiles from under their sombreros as they handled their instruments with fluid merriment.

They were followed by a troupe of effervescent female dancers, vivacious in movement and dressing as they twirled and lifted the widely brimmed skirts of their Jalisco dresses around. The bottom of the skirts were heavily embroidered, rings of silk on a monotonous background before it formed shapes on the upper part of the dress. Their hair was pinned in twin side buns, wrapped with silky ribbons of several colours and seashell amulets lay at their necks. The troupe was followed by a line of ladies dressed in elaborate tehuana headdresses, pretty and intriguing to Chanyeol. He watched in observant fascination as performers and people in strange get ups passed. This was how he spent most of the day, sticking close to the tour group and watching the ceaseless parade.

The streets were loud with the cheers of the spectators, the music and the raucous human gatherings could cause. Garlic and onion and cumin and paprika wafted the air as vendors hastened to meet the demands of the endless crowd. Chanyeol was overwhelmed with colours, sounds, smells. People he had never met were smiling at him, greeting him like an old friend, pushing food into his hands and speaking to him in fast paced amicable Spanish. He had never seen such jubilation, such joy packed in one place. The nature of festivity might have been lost in other parts of the world, but here in Mexico it was writhing and pulsing and Chanyeol felt it in his bones.

 

Mateo was nudging Chanyeol, making awed sounds at the fire breathing man they were crowded around. The sun may have gone to rest but it seemed the festival goers were far from lying down. The textile and trinket vendors were now out, convincing tourists that they certainly needed huichol bracelets in their life.  Bars and restaurants were packed, live music playing almost everywhere including on the streets. It was really a pleasant sensation, to be in the midst of all that. The crowd he was standing beside oohed and aahed, fascinated by the young man blowing fire out of his mouth. It was spectacular but Chanyeol’s feet were really tired and all he wanted to do was get somewhere to sit down.

“I am going to that bar.” Chanyeol tapped Mateo’s shoulder and pointed at the big black building behind them labelled _La Alma Feliz_ that a steady stream of people were entering and exiting. Mateo nodded enthusiastically before turning back to the street performance. Chanyeol chuckled, wondering who had even qualified Mateo as a tour guide. He pushed his way through the crowd, muttering excuse me and sorry to people who weren’t even paying attention to him, much too intrigued by the elemental man in front of them.

Chanyeol was already sighing in relief, thinking about how he would finally be able to rest his tired body and maybe have a shot or two of legendary Mexican tequila while he was at it but he was severely disappointed when he was met with bodies, jam packed in the bar right from the entrance. He couldn’t see inside, there were people standing near the exit like some kind of overpopulated high school house party. He sighed and made to exit when a hand grabbed him, pulling him back into the room shouting a “Bienvenido! Bienvenido amigo!” in his ear and thrusting him into the throng of people.  Most people were sitting, every available space taken and others stood by the door and bar lounge. The bar was spacious but it was packed to capacity and that made it seem asphyxiating and small. There was a small stage with a band playing catchy Spanish pop, coalescing into a pleasant cacophony with the amicable conversations of people. 

If it had been loud outside, inside here his body was practically vibrating with sound and if it had been hot outside, he felt like he was roasting in a furnace. But he was already in the clutches of the crowd and he thought he might as well make his way to the bar and try and get something to drink. He took off his hat and weaselled his way through. All the seats were taken so he stood awkwardly by the counter, waiting for the busy bartender to acknowledge him.

“Yes?” The bartender exclaimed, affable.  Chanyeol was about to place his order, not noticing that the band had stopped playing, when a hush fell over the bar like a blanket as though everyone had suddenly dropped dead. Chanyeol might have thought so if he couldn’t still hear the noise of the festival coming from outside. The bartender looked away from him also coming to the realization of the drastic change and soon he too seemed to be in the same trance everyone else was caught in. Chanyeol was very much bemused. And to add to the current enigma, a sudden roar ripped through the bar, shaking the whole venue. It took a moment for Chanyeol to realize; it was a simultaneous thundering cheer. But cheering for what? Chanyeol did not know.

There was someone new on the mic now, speaking conversationally into the mic and the crowd was going wild. Chanyeol was so confused and the elbows digging into his ribs from the excited people around him waving their arms around was not helping. It seemed the person on stage was inciting everyone in the vicinity because after what Chanyeol made out to be a few sentences, the crowd became wild again and their bloom clap unified voice began chanting something like an incantation.

_El Sol de Mexico._

That one sentence thundered in the room, louder and louder like a crescendo waiting to break. And Chanyeol’s Spanish was not the best but it was not hard to figure out what that meant. Besides, he was familiar with that phrase. His heart started beating at a gallop and he felt his chest constrict because _no_. It couldn’t be. There was no way.

But there was only one El Sol de Mexico.

He thanked the gods for his above average height because despite the sea of people in front of him, when he stood on his toes he could see the stage and he could see exactly the cause of pandemonium. And rightfully so.

The performer named El Sol de Mexico fixed the mic stand, adjusting it to his short height. The lighting in the bar had dimmed considerably and the source of light was the single spotlight highlighting the angel on stage. The performer could have just stood there, standing with that sweet sparkling smile and the audience would still have been captivated, Chanyeol was sure of this because that was exactly how he was feeling. He had never seen anyone so remarkably beautiful, he seemed like a perfect conjuration of a figure from a dream. He was wearing all black, tight black pants that fit him excruciatingly well, a half tucked shirt with hair just as ebony and dishevelled, a messy but intentional look. Amidst all the black, his skin was so pale, Chanyeol wondered how one could be so under the unforgiving Mexican sun. He was gleaming like a shiny white pearl laying on top of a sea of black beads. 

Chanyeol knew that face. He had stared at it in amazement, on the cover of the man’s album. The voice that belonged to that face was the reason he had come. But the pictures and covers did not do him justice. There was a certain magic in his face that the lenses did not seem to capture and seeing it in person, Chanyeol was sure he had seen an angel. 

And then El Sol de Mexico opened his mouth and began singing, immediately arresting Chanyeol and putting him into a dumbstruck coma because the records and cassettes had been _so_ unjust, it was almost criminal. The performer’s voice was much more beautiful, hearing it live, feeling it wrap itself around Chanyeol and squeeze his heart. He stayed like that for the duration of the song, craning on the tips of his toes and staring in stupefied awe as the man known as Mexico’s Sun crooned his way into his heart. That was how the performer caught Chanyeol’s eye, a wild mane of red hair craning above the crowd, straining to see. And when he met Chanyeol’s eye, Chanyeol could swear that was the moment he fell in love. The world fell away and vertigo claimed him with a dizzying flutter of feelings in his chest. He suddenly acquired a tunnel vision that made him blind to everything save for the seraphic being serenading the audience. Chanyeol was in love, he was sure of it.

The song had ended but the performer had still not broken eye contact with Chanyeol. Even when he spoke into the mic again, he was still staring at Chanyeol with a glimmer in his eyes. And then the petit singer pointed a hooked finger in Chanyeol’s direction and everyone around him turned to look. Chanyeol glanced to his sides, in front of him, behind him, but there must have been something that had identified him because everyone was looking at him and cheering in Spanish. He was so bemused and even though he was naturally a loquacious extroverted person, he found himself wanting to coil into a shell.

The bartender nudged him from behind and said with his loud boisterous voice in broken English, “You…go… up there.”  And without warning Chanyeol found hands on his body, pushing him forward, in the direction of the stage, like a human parcel until he was at the side of the stage where a small staircase of several steps led up and the performer was staring at him expectantly. His long legs stumbled up the steps on autopilot since his brain had short circuited and then he was right in front of the singer that he was convinced was an angel.

Chanyeol had trouble breathing, the way the singer was looking at him. His irises were as black as burnt wood under the spotlight and his kohl rimmed eyes were taking Chanyeol in from head to toe in a way that made the latter think that the singer was undressing him in his mind. Or perhaps a feline stretching and bracing its sinewy body before pouncing and taking it apart. Graceful and lethal. He walked closer to Chanyeol and the taller watched in a panicked silence as the petit singer took his hand and lead him to the centre of the stage, right under his spotlight.

“Do you play the guitar, amor?” the singer asked him, his accent thick, the words falling off his tongue like raspy seduction. He was still holding Chanyeol’s finger’s, his hands were so small on Chanyeol’s giant ones and his thumb  was caressing the taller one’s knuckles in a calming motion as though he could see the chaos inside Chanyeol’s heart and mind at that moment. Chanyeol nodded enthusiastically and he almost laughed at the irony because this was exactly what he had laughed at Mateo for earlier. But suddenly he was feeling every inch of the magic that had captivated Mateo inside and the only fire existing was the one taking over his body as the man from the heaven’s choir smiled at him and led him to a high chair that had appeared on the stage with a mic stand in front of it. Sweat formed at Chanyeol’s nape, rolling down his back and though he had already felt like he was sweltering, it seemed the heat was now originating from his body. Everything was either happening in slow motion or fast forward because he missed what transpired next as he found a guitar being shoved into his hand and the petit figure standing behind him, hands on his shoulder. The gorgeous singer was squeezing his shoulders and from the corner of his eyes, Chanyeol could see the slim pretty fingers, delicate and somewhat erotic all on their own.

“Sabor a Mi, love, do you know it? The gravelly voice rasped right by his ear and Chanyeol’s body almost slid forward onto the floor as a shiver that made him near spineless ran through his body and he bought his lips together tightly to fight a whimper. He nodded vigorously again and leaned forward a bit to put some distance between him and the entertainer that was doing things to his body without really doing much.

Sabor a Mi, how could he not know when it was the song that drew him to Mexico in the first place. The song of the voice he could not get out of his head, playing on an endless loop that took his breath away. And now he was on the same stage as the miracle responsible for that song and he was going to play the guitar for him too.

“Baekhyun sweetheart, Baekhyun is my name. I thought you’d be interested for later tonight, if you keep staring at me like that.” This time the whisper was much huskier and his voice trailed off in suggestive silence as he breathed heavily in Chanyeol’s ear enticingly.

Baekhyun moved from behind Chanyeol then, going to stand in front of his own stand. He turned his stand, moving it to face Chanyeol and muttered something into the mic that drew a humoured chuckle from the audience. Baekhyun raised his eyes to meet Chanyeol’s and then he started to sing, serenading Chanyeol.

 His words were watery and viscous all at once, rising from the depth of his chest and controlling the air in the bar, freezing everyone with the magic of his voice. It was like roasted coffee beans, rough and gravelly, rich and addictive. It was definitely so much better in real life. The petit singer sang to Chanyeol as though he meant every word and of course Chanyeol knew the song, word for word and every single line of translation. Baekhyun unhooked the mic and now slowly started inching towards the guitarist. Chanyeol’s fingers almost faltered when the singer gave him a salacious wink and continued to saunter in his direction.

 

_“Bastaría con abrazarte y conversar,”    {I'd just need to embrace you and to talk to you}_

Baekhyun walked closer to Chanyeol, his eyes full of meaning.

_“Sabor a mi,”   {Now you carry my flavour}_

As Baekhyun sang that line, he stopped right in front of Chanyeol, the guitarist having to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact. The line was achingly sweet as the short man sang from his heart, putting a gentle hand on Chanyeol’s cheek. The compassion in his eyes was far too intimate for strangers and Chanyeol found himself drowning in it, the breath bubbling from his lungs as the ethereal singer sang to him.

Sabor a mi. My soul’s kiss.

Baekhyun then walked around Chanyeol to stand behind him again. Chanyeol missed a note as Baekhyun put his arms around the front of Chanyeol’s shoulders and rested his head on top of Chanyeol’s. The taller recovered quickly but he was almost deafened by how loud his heart was beating in his chest, erratic and wild. He felt the organ would soon jump right out of his chest, it was beating inhumanely fast and how could it not when the star, in every sense of the word, locked him in such an intimate embrace? 

The song finished all too fast and before he knew it, Baekhyun was taking the guitar from him and the audience was cheering.  The taller one stumbled off stage again but not before the adored singer gave him a wet kiss on the cheek, saying “Gracias amor. Wait for me at the bar, si?” and smiled at Chanyeol so dazzlingly that the taller felt breath die in his lungs and choke him. He shoved the singer away from him and ran then, ran away, pushing through the thick cheering crowd and out onto the streets that were still clustered and bustling with activity but at least it did not feel like his body was suffocating under the heat of a sultry singer that made his heart jump in several sensations.

The night felt much cooler as Chanyeol walked in a reverie-like state. He knew he could potentially get lost in the maze that was the festival without Mateo but he felt disorientation like that of someone who had come to from a coma but was now suffering from amnesia. He couldn’t understand what he was feeling. Why was he so breathless? So affected? Baekhyun, El Sol de Mexico was enamouring and magnificent, yes. It was obvious that he was a borne entertainer and he could command anyone’s attention and awe. He was a star. It was only natural. But this, Chanyeol’s feelings, this was something else altogether.

This feeling was cementing itself in his bones, his heart and his soul. It felt deeper than idolization, stronger than lust and more intricate than adoration. He felt at equilibrium but at the same time, he also felt like a zoo had run amok inside his heart. He knew what the feeling was, a visceral instinct. He just couldn’t understand how he could feel this way for someone he just met?  How could his heart feel so compressed with love for a person he was barely an acquainted stranger with at best? Maybe he was mistaken. Maybe it was not love he was feeling. Maybe the heat and exhaustion got to his head. Maybe he was actually suffering from dehydration.

But logic did not wield much power in the affairs of the heart and Chanyeol found himself curious. He was still left with questions. And he was aching, just a little bit, for that near deliria feeling.

Like a shaman’s patient coming out of hypnotization, Chanyeol suddenly became lucid and his mind was made. He would eat a meal, drink plenty of water and then he would wait for Baekhyun at the bar like he had instructed. When he managed to get instructions back to _La Alma Feliz_ and circled back, the bar was still packed and rowdy but a new band was playing some Spanish rock ballads on the stage and Baekhyun was nowhere to be found. And Chanyeol could not explain it but he felt it.

_I messed up._

 

 

 

 

 

_ No Se Tu _

 

Chanyeol had been feeling a strange despondency ever since that night. He tried to enjoy the second day of the festival, the third and the fourth but he just felt so empty and achy. He couldn’t understand it and he couldn’t sooth it. He felt irritated and his high festive spirits had been dampened. He was in the middle of a festival with the gamut of colours, bright and obnoxious and vital but the colour seemed to have leached out of his world and everything was bleak. 

On the fifth day however, a little sunlight cracked through his endless gray spectrum. It was the day of the concert he had come for. El Sol de Mexico. Baekhyun’s concert. He would not be on stage with Baekhyun. He would not be playing guitar for Baekhyun. He would not be under Baekhyun’s intimate gaze or embrace but rather a nameless face amongst many other nameless faces. But he was seeing Baekhyun again and that somehow made things a little better. There was something so wrong about this feeling even though a few days before Chanyeol had been bouncing on his feet for this. Seeing Baekhyun in concert, being one amongst thousands was enough for him just a few days prior. But now it was like receiving a dead rose, withered and discoloured, when he had already held a fresh one. It wasn’t enough, Chanyeol wanted more.

 _At least I will still be able to admire him from afar_ Chanyeol consoled himself.

 

“This is it?” Chanyeol asked in bewilderment as they reached the venue. Mateo and the tour group was with him but Mateo was only showing him the concert venue and then he would take the rest of the group to another part of the city for a different concert.

Circo Volador was a large dome shaped amphitheatre made of opaque reflective glass. The venue had the capacity to hold concert-goers in their hundreds of thousands but Mateo had led them to the entrance of a smaller building beside the amphitheatre and it seemed this one could not even seat a hundred.

“It is a small special show for the ones who can afford…why did you think your ticket was so expensive, huh?” Mateo asked Chanyeol, nodding to the rectangular hard paper clutched in Chanyeol’s grasp. The short Hispanic man laughed and gave Chanyeol a pat on the back before telling him to enjoy the show and walking back to the troop that was waiting for him in their hired minivan.

 

 

 

The lights were off. Chanyeol was nervous. He was wringing his hands and constantly crossing and uncrossing his feet. The venue was small and cosy, intimate almost. Chanyeol’s VIP tickets allowed him to be in the first row, right in front of the stage. Within sight of the performer. It would be most likely that they would make eye contact. The thought alone made him want to flail in panic. The tall one leaned down to pick up the bottle by his feet and hastily downed a good portion of the contents, his throat already feeling dry. He would stay hydrated this time. And he was rested plenty. There was no way he would feel what he had felt that night.

The room was like an auditorium; a very small one. But every seat was taken and there was an excited murmur. There were people of all ages in the crowd ranging from wrinkled elderly and preteens. Baekhyun’s music was timeless, ageless. There was a possessing magic in his voice. It burrowed into the hearts of the unlikely and the unsuspecting, similar to what happened to Chanyeol.

Then the stage lights came on, one by one in a dramatic fashion and all became deadly silent. The last spotlight to be turned on was the one at the far left of the stage and a shadow hugged figure stood in its centre. Chanyeol found it funny and a little terrifying how he knew he would have known exactly who it was in a crowd from afar.

The concert commenced.

 

Chanyeol was breathless and dumbstruck. He wanted to lean forward and get as close as possible to Baekhyun but he also wanted to shrink back and camouflage into his seat. He felt so exposed and open to Baekhyun, sitting right in the front. He prayed for Baekhyun not to notice him while another part of him yearned for that enticing gaze on him again. He was so torn, he felt the urge to squirm in his seat, perhaps squirm right out of the venue.

Even though he was seated directly in front of the stage, it wasn’t until halfway through the concert that Baekhyun’s eyes fell on him. In fact, Baekhyun had looked at him and moved on. Chanyeol felt his shoulders fall. He wasn’t aware he had been holding his breath. Baekhyun probably didn’t recognize him. Of course. He had already forgotten Chanyeol, he had so many fans and there was nothing special about Chanyeol. It was logical but it still hurt.

But when Chanyeol raised his eyes to the stage again, he became paralyzed. Baekhyun was staring right at him. Chanyeol waited and waited, he waited for Baekhyun’s gaze to skip him again but the dazzling singer seemed to be paralyzed too. His mouth was moving, his sonorous mellifluous voice was filling the room but his body was stuck on Chanyeol. Baekhyun’s voice became deeper, raspier and even though he was wearing aqua blue contacts, Chanyeol could swear his eyes had darkened.

 

A few eons had passed when Baekhyun finally tore his gaze from Chanyeol and seemed to slip back into his charismatic stage persona. He smiled and roamed his eyes around the crowd, saccharine smiles and euphonious voice. But it was obvious that the star’s mind was preoccupied and his gaze kept returning to the lanky red haired tourist in the front row. Chanyeol found himself gulping each time Baekhyun looked him dead in the eye. Unlike the other night, there was something more than flirtatious looks and suggestive winks. Chanyeol couldn’t figure out Baekhyun but the feathery feelings were back, mercilessly razing his body. He felt hot and cold at the same time.

 

He was still rooted to his seat when the concert ended and a thunderous applaud reverberated from wall to wall. The star of the show waved to his fans and bowed several times, thanking his audience sincerely. Chanyeol was still rooted to his seat when Baekhyun disappeared from the stage and the attendees began trickling out of the doors. Chanyeol was still rooted to his seat when a security guard came up to him and motioned for him to follow. The last few people exiting turned and stared as a bulky man dressed in uniform marked ‘security’ hulked over Chanyeol and kept gesturing for him to come with. Chanyeol wondered what he did for security to draw security’s attention to him. Was ogling the star of the show a crime?  More and more people were turning to look at him and he didn’t want to cause a scene to he stood up quietly and followed the man.

The man pushed the bars of the metal double doors at the side of the stage, opening the door and waiting for Chanyeol to pass through. He was tempted to ask where he was being taken and what was going on but the austere expression on the man’s face made him swallow his questions. They passed through empty corridors with linoleum floors that echoed their steps and shiny fluorescent lights that hurt Chanyeol’s eyes. The closer they walked to the destination where the security man was leading them to, the more people appeared and Chanyeol realized he was actually backstage and the people milling around were staff.

Finally the man came to a stop at a door and held it open for Chanyeol to enter again. Curious but cautious, Chanyeol stepped in. It was a dressing room. A long mirror lined one wall, a counter with cosmetics and hair apparatus scattered. And there in a wheeled plush chair sat El Sol de Mexico. Chanyeol instinctively stepped back, only to find the man gone and the door now closed. Baekhyun stared at him. His shirt was now half undone, open and exposing the flushed skin of his upper torso. His hair was swept away from his face like Baekhyun had just run his hand through his hair, pushing it up and leaving it dishevelled in a way that had Chanyeol’s mind racing. His eyes were not lined with kohl but his gaze was unsettling enough without it. And though Chanyeol did not know Baekhyun personally, it was not hard to figure out the trouble brewing in the petit singer’s eyes. The silence was uncanny, Chanyeol wanted to break it anyhow he could, move or speak, even blink. Any something. But Baekhyun had him paralyzed again and this time there were no words passing through his lips, no voice serenading him. The command was all in his eyes. Slowly, Baekhyun lifted a crooked finger and gestured for Chanyeol to come towards him. A sense of deja vu washed over Chanyeol. There was nothing new about how his brain short circuited and his body began moving as though there was a magnetic force drawing him naturally in Baekhyun’s direction. He stopped right at Baekhyun’s feet, the short star now lifting his head back to maintain eye contact with him.

Swiftly, Baekhyun stood up and Chanyeol blinked in confusion as he found himself seated where Baekhyun was just moments before and now the short man was towering over him. Baekhyun hooked a finger under Chanyeol’s chin and forced the tall one to look at him.

“Not even a name,” Baekhyun breathed with his silvery voice, slightly coarse from having sung for several hours on end. “You did not even leave me a name, amor.” Baekhyun mused, sounding genuinely wounded. He cupped Chanyeol’s cheek the way he did on stage that night, his thumb caressing the taller one’s cheek.

 _I’m dreaming_ Chanyeol thought with considerable conviction. How else would he be able to explain what was happening right then?

“Tell me your name.” Baekhyun coaxed, his hand roaming Chanyeol’s face. Baekhyun’s face was inches from Chanyeol’s and an ‘accidental’ brush of lips was more than likely to occur. Chanyeol’s breath hitched in his throat when Baekhyun’s soft padded thumb traced his bottom lip and Baekhyun bit his own lip, leaning closer.

“Chanyeol.” The taller one was proud of himself for not having stuttered but very embarrassed by how much of a squeak it sounded like.

“Chanyeol.” The singer repeated, trying out the sound. His breath was hot on Chanyeol’s face, their lip touching as Baekhyun’s lips moved. The name sounded like a caress when Baekhyun said it like that and Chanyeol’s heart beat sped up. Dainty fingers touched his shoulders lightly before inching down, over his arms and to his hands and resting over them.

“Chanyeol amor, will you come with me?” Each word was a purr, half lidded eyes staring at him with silent seduction.  Chanyeol was caught in the trap Baekhyun had laid down for him, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe but he didn’t mind.

“Yes.” Chanyeol said, his gaze going down to Baekhyun’s lips. How he wanted to close those irksome centimetres between them. But Baekhyun pulled back promptly with a sugary smile and clapped his hands together excitedly.

“Let me pack my things and we can get going.”

It was only when they were both seated in the back of Baekhyun’s personal car, the tension laying heavily between them that Chanyeol remembered. He had never asked where.

 

 

 

“I usually stay here when I have performances in the city. My house is too far out.” Baekhyun explained amicably as he pushed his card into the scanner on the door. They were at a luxury hotel from what Chanyeol could tell. They hadn’t driven for long but the seconds had stretched into hours in the limited space with Baekhyun. Chanyeol felt claws tearing at his chest, he was yearning to do something, feel something, yet he didn’t know exactly what.

“Have a seat. I’ll grab something for us to eat.” Baekhyun gave Chanyeol a dazzling smile while gesturing to the leather couch in the room. The petit singer disappeared into another room and Chanyeol stood there awkwardly before deciding to sit down in an arm chair as he was instructed. He tapped his fingers nervously on his thighs, a sporadic nervous rhythm as he busied himself with observing the hotel room. It was plain but it looked homely and cosy. Baekhyun must have stayed there often. Chanyeol spotted many personal items, frames and frames of photos occupying the middle row of a long white shelf, novels with broken spines filing the rest of the shelf, letters piling on the coffee table, threadbare cushions and thinning candles on the windowsill.

Baekhyun returned not long after, juggling a bowl of fruit, wine glasses and a wine bottle in his arms. Chanyeol immediately stood up and helped relieve the task from the struggling man.

“Thank you.” Baekhyun smiled. The short one poured wine for them both and nudged the fruit bowl towards Chanyeol but neither drank or ate. Their eyes were focused solely on each other.

“So you came to Mexico for the festival?” Baekhyun asked, his voice soft and intimate in the room that hosted only them.

“I-I actually came to see your concert.” Chanyeol wanted to say yes, he had only come for Festival de Mexico but under Baekhyun’s enchanting gaze he couldn’t. He just wanted to worship Baekhyun, with words and with touches.

“Ah, a fan.” Baekhyun chuckled lightly. “I also came to that conclusion when I saw you today.”

They conversed for a while, Chanyeol telling him where he came from and Baekhyun listening intently, asking Chanyeol more about his life and telling him something about himself in exchange. The air between them was pleasant and amicable but there was an undercurrent, an underlying tension, like a tunnel underneath the surface that was filled with desire and lust. And Chanyeol was still confused as to why Baekhyun had brought him here in the first place. Why him? From that first night, why had Baekhyun singled out Chanyeol?

“Why? Why am I here?” Chanyeol asked, finally mustering the courage to voice his curiosity.  There was silence for several moments. Baekhyun stood up then and Chanyeol thought he was about to walk out but then he started walking towards Chanyeol. Until he was right in front of Chanyeol. And then he sat on the taller one’s lap.

“Do you not feel it?” Baekhyun said as he sat in Chanyeol’s lap. The taller one fumbled with his hands, not knowing where to place them. He waved them around in panic before settling them on the arm rests at last.

“Amor tell me. Do you not feel it here?” Baekhyun asked, a certain vulnerability in his voice as he laid his hand against Chanyeol’s chest, right over his heart beat. Chanyeol was sure Baekhyun could feel the wild thumping of his heart. He understood what Baekhyun referring to though. That feeling was exactly what was making his heart beat so fast. He couldn’t explain it, it was just a strong sense of rightness like everything had aligned itself in the world.

“I want to touch you Chanyeol, I want to touch you everywhere and feel your skin. I want to wrap myself around you. Do you not feel the same?” Baekhyun asked, his raspy husky voice making its way into Chanyeol’s ears, through his brain and sending all the blood to his southern region. Baekhyun’s hands crawled to the edge of Chanyeol’s shirt, question in his eyes. His hands lingered on the edge, waiting for Chanyeol to react, push him away but Chanyeol didn’t want him to stop. Slowly the smaller one lifted the shirt over Chanyeol’s head and threw it to the ground. His eyes traced over the smooth but firm expanse of Chanyeol’s chest, gaze flickering with hunger. His hands followed everywhere he touched, soft and titillating. He touched Chanyeol like he couldn’t get enough and Chanyeol was certainly aroused at that point.

“I crave you. Why do I crave you so amor?” Baekhyun asked in wonder, his hands now running to lower danger places that had Chanyeol’s biting back moans.

“Do you crave me?” Chanyeol’s heart leaped at the vulnerability in Baekhyun’s eyes. The shorter man was confident and commanding, a blinding star that was adored and he was still all that but the softness in his eyes was endearing to Chanyeol in a painful way.

“Yes.” Chanyeol breathed because that was all he could say, Baekhyun had stolen his breath and his brain was scrambled and could form no sentences.

Then finally, Baekhyun pressed his lips to Chanyeol’s with aching gentleness, as though Chanyeol was fragile and Baekhyun didn’t want to break him. A soft press of lips to lips, again and again until Chanyeol was drowning in the taste of Baekhyun, the feel of Baekhyun.

“Do you know my love, that I am a sommelier? I thought I knew the taste of every wine, a professional in my trait. But I’ve never tasted wine as intoxicating as you.” Baekhyun picked a grape out of the fruit bowl and pushed it into Chanyeol’s mouth.

“Here in Mexico, we are superstitious. But everyone thought I was crazy when I said I was waiting for my soulmate. I was losing hope you know. But you are here. You feel it too, right?” Baekhyun splayed his hands on Chanyeol’s chest and his body turned sideways on the taller one’s lap with his legs dangling to the side.

And before Chanyeol could answer, Baekhyun pressed their lips together again. This time it was more urgent, more heated. Baekhyun prodded his tongue into Chanyeol’s mouth and Chanyeol had no barriers against Baekhyun, he was at his mercy and Chanyeol had a feeling that that would never change.

Chanyeol’s head was back against the edge of the armchair, Baekhyun pressing close and closer, like he was desperate to taste and memorize Chanyeol. Chanyeol’s jitters and shyness was trickling out his body, instead replaced with lust that made him grip Baekhyun’s waist and push their crotches together.

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun sighed against the taller one’s lips. Chanyeol had never heard his name uttered so sweet, so lovingly and he was overwhelmed with everything he was feeling. It was intense, it was too much, so much that it almost hurt but he didn’t want to stop. Even if he couldn’t understand it, he wanted more of Baekhyun, he wanted _all_ of Baekhyun.

“Chanyeol amor, touch me. Touch me please.” Baekhyun took Chanyeol’s hand and placed it on the top button of his shirt. Their eyes remained on each other as Chanyeol undid the buttons with shaking hands. It was not his first time being intimate with another person but it all felt new and like the first time with Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s heart was in his throat. It was just the effect Baekhyun had on him. The taller one pushed the black fabric off the petit singer and marvelled the unmarred perfect skin. His hands rested on Baekhyun’s shoulder and he had the driving urge to mark the skin, right there on the bony smooth shoulder. Blood rushed through Chanyeol’s body, thick and fast into his member when Baekhyun moaned as he smoothed his hands over the petit one’s chest and explored the skin. Baekhyun was _so_ sensitive.

Chanyeol traced the thin torso and wide curved waist. He tested tenderly the softness of the smaller one’s stomach and felt with the tip of a single finger the shape of the protruding collarbones, begging him to move closer and leave symbols of his mouth. Then his hands moved to the thickness seated on his thighs, fitting his hands against the cheeks and cupping.

“Papi!” Baekhyun gasped, following forward and bracing himself on Chanyeol’s shoulder. Baekhyun’s eyes were wide, pleasure and shock dilating his pupils. He waited for Chanyeol’s reaction, perhaps the taller one would be turned off by the use of the word but the taller one’s mouth fell open, a small moan escaping because _damn_. He had never heard anything as sexy as Baekhyun calling him that. Chanyeol continued to learn the shape of Baekhyun’s ample behind as Baekhyun rested his forehead against his. Baekhyun’s eyes were so open to Chanyeol. He could read the tenderness, the lust and the awe. And Chanyeol was in disbelief. How could someone as astonishingly extraordinary feel that way about his plain self? But it was all there in Baekhyun’s eyes.

“No sé tú,” Baekhyun’s sang, silver and deep.

“Pero yo no dejo de pensar,” Baekhyun kissed Chanyeol’s cheek, his words filled with emotion.

“Don’t stop, papi.” Baekhyun said as Chanyeol’s hands went slack on his body when he started singing. Chanyeol would never get accustomed to the beauty of Baekhyun’s vocals, he would be astounded and ambushed with awe each and every time. The smaller one then wrapped his arms around Chanyeol’s shoulder, adjusted himself on Chanyeol’s lap and slowly moved their bodies together.

“Do you want this?” Baekhyun asked, accentuating the question with a roll of his hips. Chanyeol nodded, his hold on Baekhyun’s ass tightening.

“Then take control papi. Take control. Do whatever you want to me.” Baekhyun encouraged, grinding down harder into Chanyeol’s hands that were cupping his ample cheeks. The smaller one placed a soft kiss on the taller one’s lips, arousing him, enticing him. Chanyeol felt more confident as Baekhyun showed him how much he yearned for him to be touched by the giant. And as Baekhyun touched him and he mirrored those actions, the lust hazed his mind like a thick fog and he was throbbing and aching to be sheathed inside the man who snatched his heart.

When they were both a panting moaning mess as a result of each other’s touches, Baekhyun pulled himself off the taller one’s lap and held out a hand for him to take. Baekhyun immediately shimmied out of his trousers as soon as they reached the bedroom. And then he reached for Chanyeol’s belt, unbuckling it and pushing the taller one out of his legwear. They stood naked in front of each other. The air had definitely shifted between them, the tense shyness was gone. Instead, they took in each other’s bodies, heat and desire brewing in the depth of their irises. Chanyeol reached his arms out for Baekhyun and the smaller one walked into his arms. Their mouths were on each other, hungrier than ever for each other. They were breathing hard, lust driven madness rushing their actions almost making them devour each other.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol moaned as the smaller one took his long member in his dainty hands and gave it a testing stroke.

“Wow papi, you’re so _big_ , mmh.” Baekhyun said in awe, giving an appreciative moan that made Chanyeol’s member throb in his hands. He fondled Chanyeol’s balls, squeezing them and then moving up along the thick length with his fisted hands, applying pressure that had Chanyeol steeling his legs so he wouldn’t collapse onto the smaller body.

“I love it.” Baekhyun said lewdly as he thumbed the head of Chanyeol’s member lovingly, looking at the taller one with clouded eyes.

“You’re so hot.” Chanyeol said huskily, the desire to take Baekhyun intensifying with each moment. He hauled Baekhyun up onto his body and kneaded Baekhyun’s cheeks while moving them towards the bed.   

They tangled with each other on the bed, the need to feel each other taking over and making them both ache to touch each other everywhere, kiss everywhere and mark everywhere. Their mouths latched on each other’s necks and sucked as their wandering hands stroked one another to full mast. They were both leaking and throbbing , flushed and burning. Baekhyun leaned over the bed to grab a bottle on the nightstand and shoved it into Chanyeol’s hand.

“Chanyeol papi,” Baekhyun moaned breathlessly as Chanyeol’s finger entered his clenching hole. Chanyeol leaned down and kissed Baekhyun, distracting him from his fingers that were prying the puckered hole open. They were going slow and fast, savouring and urgent. And then finally Chanyeol entered Baekhyun and the small delicate body keened in his hold while they both moaned lecherously, against each other’s lips.

“Why are you so tight,” Chanyeol gasped, thrusting into Baekhyun’s compressing walls.

“Do you like that papi?” Baekhyun clenched his hole and Chanyeol’s eyes almost rolled back. He squeezed Baekhyun’s hips almost punishingly as he fucked hard into him.

“Yes Baekhyun, I like that.” Chanyeol moaned, his hands bracing his body over Baekhyun’s on the mattress either side of Baekhyun’s neck.

“How about this papi?” Baekhyun rolled his hips up to meet Chanyeol’s pile-driving thrusts.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol growled deeply from his chest as his senses were stimulated and lust cocooned him to the point of insanity.

“Baby, Chanyeol amor, say that.”

“Baby.” Chanyeol obeyed, his hand coming to curl around Baekhyun’s nape.

“Yes papi,” Baekhyun moaned, aroused.

“You feel so good Baekhyun baby,” Chanyeol praised, spurred on by Baekhyun’s reaction to everything he did and how Baekhyun squeezed his member inside him even harder when he called him that. Baekhyun was moaning incessantly, his eyes closed and fingers digging into Chanyeol’s hips where he was clutching onto.

“Yes Chanyeol papi, just like that.” Baekhyun purred as the taller one hit his prostate, making Baekhyun’s body arch and writhe.

Chanyeol’s thrusts became harsher, jarring and sporadic as he neared his climax. Baekhyun made to touch his member but Chanyeol pushed his hand away and started stroking him instead. Their grunts and moans filled the night with the slapping of their slick skin accompanying it. The pleasure building up was about to tear them apart, it was becoming too much.

And then Chanyeol released into Baekhyun, hot and thick, filling him up with “Baekhyun” and “Baby” spilling out his lips uncontrollably as he orgasmed rapturously.

Baekhyun felt so full and hot and wet with Chanyeol’s cum deep inside him, the taller one still stroking him and that made him reach his peak. He arched up into Chanyeol, his scream startling in the night but melodious to Chanyeol’s ears.

“Chanyeol, papi, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun moaned even after his orgasm had passed, he was still shaking with the aftershocks, his body sensitive and tingling. Chanyeol put his lips against the small man underneath him, silencing him as their lips swallowed the moans and sighs.

They kissed languidly as the hurried passion seeped out of their body and they remained with the feelings they couldn’t deny. They were gentle and soft once again, tender with each other’s bodies. Chanyeol pressed a kiss to Baekhyun’s forehead before removing himself from the smaller one’s hole and lying next to him.

“Baekhyun.” Chanyeol sighed in content as the petit one linked their hands.

“Let’s be together.” Baekhyun said suddenly, turning on his side so he could look Chanyeol in the eye.

“Baekhyun…Our lives are very different…” Chanyeol never wanted to leave Baekhyun’s side. He was already addicted and perhaps he was in love. No, he definitely was in love because Baekhyun was right. Nothing had ever felt so perfect or made him feel so complete as Baekhyun did. They _were_ soulmates. But everything else was in discord. They couldn’t possibly be together. They were from separate orbits. Baekhyun was a star and Chanyeol was a composer still trying to make it. Baekhyun lived in Mexico and Seoul was Chanyeol’s home. Baekhyun was breath taking and Chanyeol was ordinary.

“Don’t amor. Don’t give up on us before we’ve even tried.” Baekhyun said sadly, squeezing Chanyeol’s hand.

“Do you want to be with me?” Baekhyun asked simply. Chanyeol didn’t have to think about it. It was what he wanted, what his heart wanted.

“Yes.”

“Then don’t think about it. Just let us be as we are. We’ll figure it out, si?” Baekhyun smiled that dazzling smile that took Chanyeol’s breath away. He was beauty down to the bone and Chanyeol was already head over heels for him.

“Okay,” Chanyeol said with a shaky breath, “Okay.” Baekhyun kissed him again then.

 

He came to Mexico looking to glimpse the miracle that had blessed his ears but instead he found his destiny.

 

 

~


End file.
